With the expedition imminent, Daxing was alive with motion — people flowing in opposing streams, like a river surging both ways at once.

Enormous quantities of supplies were massing outside the city walls. The Ning Army’s vanguard was already encamped outside the gates.

Barring the unforeseen, within ten days the vanguard would escort the first wave of grain and materiel and begin its march.

—

Outside the city. The camp.

Tang Pidi walked through the supply depot with his generals for an inspection. The army has not yet moved; the provisions must move first. These supplies were the foundation of the campaign against the Shu Region.

While they were making their rounds, Li Chi arrived with Xiahou Zhuo and the others.

“Elder Zhang the True Man says seven days from now is an auspicious day to set out.”

Li Chi smiled. “An elder’s words must be heeded.”

Tang Pidi smiled. “If you don’t heed them, won’t he make you wait even longer for the next auspicious date?”

That earned him a generous white-eyed stare from Li Chi.

Li Chi sighed. “If not for the elder, every day would be auspicious for me.”

“If Elder Zhang were to hear those words,” Tang Pidi said, “the auspicious day for your wedding might arrive rather later than usual.”

Li Chi sighed.

“Xiahou goes first.”

Tang Pidi spoke as he walked. “The forward army: one hundred and ten thousand men. The Wolf Ape Battalion goes ahead of the forward army.”

Li Chi nodded. “Military matters — arrange them as you see fit. But if you don’t put me in the arrangement, there’s no point making one.”

Tang Pidi laughed. “Threatening your own Grand Marshal on the eve of battle.”

“That’s the best I’ve got.”

Everyone laughed.

The forward army: one hundred thousand men. Xiahou Zhuo as its commanding general. They would reach the border of Jing Province and the Shu Region within two months — specifically the Kaoshan Pass, the location the Court’s agents had previously scouted. Though it wasn’t the only road into Shu, it was, without question, the most accessible and the most manageable to assault. Other mountain passes were far more forbidding — many of them one-man-holds-ten-thousand territory.

The Shu Region’s uniqueness came precisely from this. So long as the passes were sealed, outsiders would find it nearly impossible to force entry.

It was said that in the founding years of the Great Chu dynasty, the Chu Ancestor Emperor himself once declared that in all his years of war, he had faced many formidable enemies: the mighty Meng Empire, the combined forces of the Western Regions, the Black Warrior people. Yet looking back across it all, the hardest campaign he ever fought was the Shu Region. Chu forces had ridden in on a wave of total victories, brimming with momentum — and still the campaign had been brutal beyond measure. Six hundred thousand Chu soldiers entered Shu. When it was over, only two hundred and forty thousand remained.

Think about it: the Chu Army at that time was at the very height of its power, battle-hardened and triumphant, carrying a ferocity forged against foreign enemies.

And yet the terrain of Shu had turned every step into a quagmire.

Against most territories, spring and summer were the ideal seasons for campaigning. Against Shu, there had always been a saying: Do not attack Shu in spring or summer. The mountain faces of Shu were temperamental in any season, but the spring-summer rains could swallow an army whole.

—

“Shen Shanhu came to see me again yesterday.”

Li Chi glanced at Tang Pidi.

Tang Pidi: “Submitting another resignation?”

“No. She was here to scold you.”

Li Chi smiled. “Apparently you haven’t assigned her to the Shu campaign. She submitted a formal complaint against you — a rather vigorous one.”

Tang Pidi: “How embarrassing… How embarrassing…”

Li Chi said: “I had no choice. Between protecting myself and throwing you under, of course I threw you under.”

Tang Pidi: “…You, as the Lord—”

Before he could finish, Li Chi cut him off: “What about me as the Lord? And what about you as her husband?”

Tang Pidi fell silent.

—

After several months of rest and recovery, Yu Jiuling could now walk with no trace of a limp.

And the hard work he put in — in secret, where no one could see — far exceeded what any ordinary person would endure. For all his clowning about in public, his effort lived in the places where others couldn’t watch.

From the moment he could move, he began retraining his legs. The physician had said he might never run as fast as he once had.

Yu Jiuling was the kind of man who would never stand before a crowd and declaim, chest heaving: I refuse to accept my fate.

He would simply, quietly, say to fate: Let me try fighting back a little.

Yu Jiuling liked to joke with a self-deprecating line: Being fast is something you can only do yourself — fast when you want to be fast; when I’m not being fast, it doesn’t mean I can’t be fast anymore. It just means I don’t feel like it right now.

Every last person in the Ning Army knew it: this campaign against Shu was the final great battle before the whole of the Central Plains was theirs.

So every one of them was itching for it. Yu Jiuling included — he could not allow himself to miss a battle like this.

Because he understood clearly: when this battle was over, the world would truly have changed.

He had once said: I’m a man who moves fast. I refuse to be left behind.

—

Xiahou Zhuo smiled. “Pei Qi ought to feel honored. No single person in history has ever faced the full assembly of the Ning Army’s generals.”

Not even when the million-strong Black Warrior Army swept south had every one of the Ning Army’s famous commanders been present at the same time.

This time, Pei Qi would likely face seven or eight out of ten.

Consider: Xiahou Zhuo as the forward army’s commander-in-chief, with vanguard general Gao Zhen under his command.

Tang Pidi as Grand Marshal. Shen Shanhu as Deputy Marshal. As Tang Pidi had already arranged: Dan Taiyajing commanding the left flank, Cheng Wujie commanding the right, Zhuang Wudi holding the rear.

And then there was Li Chi, Gao Xining — both joining the campaign personally.

Only two of the Ning Army’s storied generals would be absent.

Tang Ancheng, who had gone to the northwest with only ten thousand men.

Liuge, still in Yue Province — though it wouldn’t be long before Yue was fully brought to heel.

Any one of these commanders, standing alone, was unmatched. You could pick one at random and name them commander-in-chief of the Shu campaign — and it would still count as taking Shu seriously.

If the battle against Prince Wu had been the first time Tang Pidi fought with superior numbers on his side — then this campaign was the Ning Army pressing forward with the full force of their overwhelming superiority.

According to Tang Pidi’s plan: as summer arrived, the various columns would set out in succession. By early autumn, they would close the encirclement around the Shu Region.

Late sixth month: the vanguard army departs.

Early seventh month: five hundred thousand Ning Army main force departs.

Six hundred thousand troops in total, sweeping forward in a force that moved mountains and overturned seas — pressing toward the Shu Region.

—

Kaoshan Pass.

Military Governor Pei Qi had been stationed here for several months. Since the Court’s agents killed the Shadow Camp’s Central Overseer, he had not returned to Mei City.

Not only that — he had brought the Chu Emperor Yang Jing from Mei City to Kaoshan Pass.

Yang Jing understood: his purpose now amounted to little more than giving Pei Qi a banner of legitimacy.

People who had once opposed Chu now marched under the banner of Restoring the Dynasty.

“Your Majesty.”

Pei Qi gestured toward the land beyond Kaoshan Pass. “For a month now, Ning Army detachments have been appearing out there. By all signs, their main force won’t be far behind.”

Yang Jing hurried to say: “With the Military Governor’s martial prestige, with the Military Governor’s courage and ability, Your subject has no fear that the bandit Li Chi can break through Kaoshan Pass.”

Pei Qi smiled slightly. “Your Majesty is too gracious. It is not your subject who will make Kaoshan Pass unbreakable — it is Your Majesty.”

He looked at Yang Jing. “So long as the soldiers know that Your Majesty stands with them, every last soldier will be willing to die for the throne.”

“Yes, yes — the Minister’s words are entirely correct. Therefore your subject is willing to stand with the soldiers at Kaoshan Pass to resist the enemy.”

He added: “When the time comes, don’t forget to give your subject a bow. Your subject also wishes to stand on the walls and kill bandits alongside the soldiers.”

What Yang Jing could never have anticipated was — Pei Qi smiled and said: “Then it shall be as Your Majesty commands.”

Those words left Yang Jing briefly stunned.

“Your subject…”

Yang Jing opened his mouth, and the words behind them refused to come.

He had only meant it as a gesture. In the ordinary course of things, Pei Qi ought, of course, to have objected to the Emperor personally taking the walls.

But Pei Qi’s response made Yang Jing understand in an instant: an Emperor who dies is not necessarily a catastrophe.

He was already in Shu, and all the world knew it.

So Pei Qi’s reputation as a loyal subject striving to restore the dynasty had already spread far. Whether the Emperor lived or not was no longer consequential. The banner mattered. The banner was enough.

If the Emperor happened to fall in battle on Kaoshan Pass — would that be a loss for Pei Qi?

Of course not. The one who killed the Emperor would not be Pei Qi. It would be Prince Ning Li Chi’s forces.

And with the Emperor dead, Pei Qi would have a pretext for future campaigns — he could march under the banner of avenging the Emperor…

Pei Qi smiled. “Your Majesty may rest assured. Wherever Your Majesty is, your subject shall be.”

Yang Jing smiled along with him. “Your subject naturally trusts in the Minister’s loyalty. Your subject is entirely reassured.”

Just then, a soldier came sprinting up the steps from below, leaned close to Pei Qi’s ear, and said something in a low voice. Pei Qi’s expression changed the moment he heard it; the corners of his mouth curved upward.

The Emperor hadn’t caught the words clearly, but he could guess well enough. It must be that Han Feibao had returned.

“Your Majesty — your subject has a military matter to attend to. Your subject takes his leave.”

Pei Qi bowed to the Emperor, then strode down from the walls at a quick pace.

The walls were full of garrison soldiers. But the Emperor standing among them now felt utterly alone.

He had often felt lonely in Daxing. But only now did he truly understand what loneliness was.

In Daxing, at least he’d had Zhen Xiaodao and Hui Chunqiu; and even after those two died, Yu Wenli had remained.

Here, there was not a single person he could truly talk to. Even his imperial title could no longer command anyone’s awe.

Yang Jing drifted silently to a section of the wall and stopped. He raised his head and looked at the banner of the Great Chu flying from the flagpole.

“…Still flying.”

He murmured to himself.

Yes. Still, there was one place in this Central Plains where the Great Chu’s flag still flew.

—

Below the walls.

Han Feibao glanced upward and asked Pei Qi: “That fellow’s on the walls?”

Pei Qi smiled. “Him being on the walls still serves some purpose.”

Han Feibao gave a cold laugh. “If he happened to die on the walls, wouldn’t that serve even more of a purpose?”

Pei Qi said: “Isn’t that yours to arrange?”

Han Feibao burst out laughing.

And well he might. He knew Pei Qi would stand with him now — because he had soldiers. This time returning from the Yong Region, he had brought back several hundred thousand troops. Whether Shu could hold was entirely a matter of his mood.

“When you go up, still give him a little face,” Pei Qi said. “He’s still a banner, after all.”

Han Feibao nodded. “I know, I know.”

He climbed the steps to the walls. From a distance he could already see Emperor Yang Jing standing with his head tilted back, gazing at the Chu banner. Han Feibao couldn’t suppress a cold laugh.

He was still thinking about what manner he should use to address Yang Jing, when Yang Jing came running toward him.

“General Han — your subject has finally waited for you to fill out again. Your subject’s General Han — your subject has missed you so terribly.”

Han Feibao was, briefly, taken completely aback.